


looking sharp (looking for love)

by ohfreckle



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Come Eating, Edging, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Restraints, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 17:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14836025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: Shopping for a suit for Alec wasn't supposed to Magnus get this hot and bothered, but what he can he say. He loves a hot man in a sharp suit.





	looking sharp (looking for love)

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for the Filth Wizards, I can't be held responsible for this fllth.
> 
> [This is the outfit](https://i.dmarge.com/2017/08/b77f987722a002783f7d5ec3d7fead1a-purple-prom-suit-purple-suits.jpg) Alec is trying on.

“Absolutely not.” Alec’s voice carries loud enough through the shop to turn some heads.

“Color does not harm people, Alexander. Look at me. Not a single scratch.”

Magnus spreads his arms and does a little spin, showing off his burgundy waistcoat. He’s foregone the jacket for today because of the sweltering heat outside, but also because he wants to show off his lavender shirt. Alec’s eyes went a bit glassy when Magnus dressed earlier today, another excellent reason. Even now he’s much more interested in Magnus’ buttons than the suit Magnus is holding up for his perusal.

“It’s purple,” Alecs deadpans and crosses his arms over his chest.

“It’s aubergine-colored, a very dark eggplant,” Magnus explains, praying for patience. He’d proposed a shopping tour, delighted when Alec chose to wear one of his shirts without blinking an eye, even more so that it was one that wasn’t all black.

Magnus’ enthusiasm was a little premature, though. So far Alec has flat out refused everything that isn’t black, or in one case of reckless abandon, grey.

“Still purple.” Alec shifts his legs a little wider, not giving an inch. His face is set in a scowl that must send Shadowhunters scurrying for cover. On Magnus, it has quite the opposite effect. He’d love nothing more than to press closer and kiss that frown away. Alec in leader mode always gets him a little hot under the collar.

“At least try it on. Please, for me.” Magnus needs to see Alec in this suit. It’s a perfect fit, the color matching the finger-shaped bruises on Alec’s hips and thighs. Magnus is not above begging when it suits his needs.

“So, I can see this is important to you, but what do I get out of it? Other than looking like I’m playing dress up.” Alec rolls up onto the balls of his feet, his mouth stretching into a smile with just a hint of too much innocence.

Oh.

_Oh._ Magnus likes a man who plays dirty.

“I can make it make worth your while, darling,” he says, dropping into the lower timbre that never fails to make to Alec’s eyes darken. “Have I ever disappointed you, Alexander?”

Alec casts a dubious glance at the suit in Magnus’ hands as if its very existence offends him, but the way he runs his eyes down Magnus’ body is the exact opposite. Full of undisguised hunger and want that sends a hot spark of anticipation trickling down Magnus' spine.

“Okay, but that’ll cost you,” Alec says, plucking the suit out of Magnus’ unresisting fingers. He’s already halfway to the dressing room when Magnus remembers how his legs work and follows.

Upholding a modicum of propriety, Magnus sits on a small bench and waits outside the dressing cubicle. Maurice’s tailor shop has been in business for decades, and it shows in the interior. Everything is pristine and in perfect order, but there’s a certain wistfulness in the dark wooden panels and wall coverings that reminds Magnus of a time long gone.

A quiet curse interrupts his reminiscences. “Alec? Need a hand?”

“No.” Magnus hears rustling and a thump. Alec gives a low grunt, followed by another curse. “This cubicle is too fucking tiny, and this suit looks like shit.” A small pause. “Sorry.”

“I doubt that,” Magnus says. “Want me to take a look?”

The curtain is yanked back hard to enough to make the rings rattle against the rail. Alec’s glower is fierce enough to curdle milk, and Magnus has to stifle a smile. The cubicle is as old as the shop and not built for a man of Alec’s size to change comfortably without hitting his elbows.

The complaint about the cubicle is warranted, but Alec has it all wrong about the suit. Eggplant is definitely Alec’s color, complimenting his fair skin perfectly, setting it off against the extravagant shade. What has Alec disgruntled is probably the tightness around the shoulders, but that’s nothing a little magic can’t fix.

“Better?” Magnus asks, adjusting the fit with a flick of his wrist, pleased when Alec nods and rolls his shoulders.

“Yeah.” Stretching out his arms, Alec looks down his body, unlike Magnus still not happy with what he sees. “I don’t know, it’s…I don’t know, kind of drab.”

Alec worrying about looking drab isn’t something Magnus thought he’d ever hear.

“It’s beautiful.” Magnus walks over to Alec and adjusts the jacket, running his fingers under the lapels. “ _You_ are beautiful, but this shirt—” Magnus tugs at the worn collar of Alec’s faded t-shirt, revealing the edge of a hickey he put there earlier this morning. “No offense, but everything looks drab with this. Accessorizing, Alexander. The secret key to a truly spectacular look.”

“Uh, I don’t think necklaces are my style,” Alec says, screwing up his face.

“Now, don’t get cheeky,” Magnus says, poking a finger at Alec’s chest. “We’ll start easy. Just shirts and ties for now.”

“Wow, I’m thrilled,” Alec deadpans, but he belies his sarcasm by lowering his head to steal a quick, hard kiss that makes Magnus flush with warmth. “Thank you.”

“I have so much to teach you,” Magnus says, pecking Alec on the lips before he starts for the door. “Let me pick something for you. Oh, and I’ll have Maurice pack up a few black t-shirts. There’s something to be said for black shirts that are…black.”

Alec’s indignant _Hey_ follows Magnus out into the shop.

He comes back to the stunning view of Alec’s back. Alec is standing sideways in front of the mirror, checking the seat of the trousers, and Magnus’ mouth goes dry. They’ll take the suit. Magnus doesn’t have the self-restraint to deny himself the sight of how sinfully those trousers are hugging Alec’s ass and hips.

“Here,” Magnus says, handing Alec the shirt and the tie he chose. “I was going for something more daring, but they didn’t have the pop dot patterned shirt in your size, so I went for a windowpane pattern instead.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Alec says, his voice dry. He eyes the polka-dotted tie in his hands. “I’m not the expert here, but I doubt big dots go well with small ones.”

“Of course I would have chosen a different—” Magnus trails off when Alec winks and draws the curtain closed.

Marvelous. Alec is a suit is all it takes to make him babble.

Waiting is torture now that Magnus knows how handsome Alec looks in the suit. It’s not that Alec doesn’t look beautiful with and without any kind of clothes; it certainly wasn’t his flashy wardrobe that first caught Magnus’ eye. He’s been making an effort to dress nicer lately, a fact Magnus appreciates for several reasons, but there is something special about a man in a sharp suit.

“Ok, I’m ready. What do you think?”

Words can’t possibly describe the vision that is Alec Lightwood decked out in expensive menswear. Magnus doesn’t even try, just goes over and kisses him.

He means it to be quick, just a show of appreciation, but then Alec slides his arm around Magnus’ waist and pulls him close. The spark that’s always there between them roars to life, and the kiss turns slow and deep. Alec has the presence of mind to yank the curtain closed, but the cubicle isn’t built for one let alone two grown men and they stumble, bumping against the mirror that shatters under their combined weight with a muffled noise.

But not even the prospect of seven years of bad luck can make Magnus stop kissing Alec. He slides his tongue against Alec’s and snaps his fingers to replace the mirror, swallowing Alec’s moan when a stray spark of magic graces his skin.

“If this is what seeing you in that suit will cost me,” he breathes, nipping Alec’s bottom lip, “then I’ll happily pay for a dozen more.”

“Oh no, you’ll pay me on your hands and knees,” Alec murmurs, tongue darting out to dip between Magnus’s lips, soft and slick. “Gonna make you share my stamina rune, make you scream.” Another lick, this one deeper, a hot slide against Magnus’ tongue. “It’s a nice suit, but it would look so much better on you.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, darling.” There’s barely enough room for them to stand, but Magnus manages to maneuver Alec around until they’re back to chest. He needs Alec to _see_.

“Look at you.” He hooks his chin on Alec’s shoulder, searching his eyes in the mirror as he places his hands on Alec’s chest, dragging them slowly down the lean line of his jacket. The dark purple looks good against his hands, his brown skin the perfect backdrop to make it pop, but it’s the paleness of Alec’s throat that turns it into something unique and striking. “I’ve never seen a man as beautiful as you.”

Magnus can feel the muscles in Alec’s stomach tighten under his hands, a remnant of the knee-jerk reaction to deny it. But somewhere along the road, Alec has accepted that Magnus means these things, that he would never lie to Alec, not about _them_ , and so he merely turns his head. Their mouths meet in another kiss, messy, open-mouthed, teeth and tongue and heat.

It’s Alec who guides his hand lower, his fingers hot over Magnus’ own as he places them over the swollen ridge of his cock. _Please_ , barely more than a whisper in the small space between them.

As if Magnus could deny him.

Silencing his moan with a deep kiss, Magnus makes quick work of Alec’s zipper. He pushes the elastic of his boxer down and pulls Alec’s cock out, dragging the tip of his forefinger over the hot length, just the barest hint of touch against the sensitive spot below his crown.

“Does this turn you on?” he asks, brushing his lips over the shell over Alec’s ear without ceasing the touch on his cock. "Do you like the idea that somebody can walk in on us anytime and see how hot you are for me? That you can’t even wait for us to get home and fuck in the privacy of our bedroom?”

Alec doesn’t answer, a shuddering breath that sounds as if it’s ripped from right out of his chest the only sound that makes it past his lips, but he doesn’t need to. His cock twitches at Magnus' suggestion, bobbing in the air as it blurts out a fat drop of precome that splashes onto the linoleum with an obscenely wet sound that rings unnaturally loud in the silence of the room.

“Do you want more?” Magnus asks, adding more pressure with his finger. They’ve fucked in public plenty of times, but never without discussing it before. He needs at least some kind of consent to take this further, even if it would kill him to stop now.

“Yeah,” Alec says, so low Magnus can barely hear him over the rush of blood in his ears. It’s enough for Magnus to continue this game, but that doesn’t mean he’ll give Alec what he so desperately wants. Not now. Not for quite some time.

“Yes, what?” Magnus murmurs, dragging the flat of his nail down Alec’s cock, circling a whisper of a touch around the base. It draws a low moan from Alec that quickly rises in volume when Magnus snaps his hips forward and drags his hard, clothed cock over the cleft of Alec’s ass.

“Yes, I want more,” Alec grits out, loud enough that for a second Magnus is glad the cubicle next to them is unoccupied. Maurice will overlook a lot of things for an old friend, but Magnus has it on good authority that he doesn’t take kindly to losing scandalized customers.

"And I’ll give you more, but you have to be quiet.” Magnus shushes him, albeit without much luck because the desperate _fuck_ Alec lets out when he scratches through his damp pubic hair is even louder. He’ll just have to find a way to make it up to Maurice, Magnus decides because there is no universe in which he’ll miss out on those stuttered sounds that are dripping from Alec’s lips as he fucks the empty air in front of him.

“Can’t,” Alec gasps and squeezes his eyes shut, arching his back as he drops his head back onto Magnus' shoulder. His body is suspended in a gorgeous line of frustration, every muscle locked tight and trembling. "Magnus, please-“ Alec turns his head and slides his fingers into Magnus’ hair, tugging hard as he exhales hot and sharp against the side of Magnus' neck, mouthing over every bit of skin he can reach.

It’s almost enough to distract Magnus. He’s so caught up in the sensation of Alec’s tongue licking wetly over his throat between small, sucking kisses that he almost misses the feel of trembling fingertips brushing his own where he’s still stroking them through Alec’s bush, scratching lightly at the skin beneath. Only the thought that he isn’t ready to stop looking at Alec struggling to come jolts him from his lust-induced stupor.

"Oh no, you don’t,” Magnus chastises, catching Alec’s wrist before he can wrap his hand around his cock, ignoring Alec’s impatient whine. “Patience, darling, you know it’ll be worth it.”

“Need to come _now_ ,” Alec pants, squirming against Magnus' hold on his wrist and hip. Always so goal-driven, his Alexander, chasing his pleasure with the single-minded focus of a soldier instead of savoring it. He’s still learning how gratifying the long, steep climb to a mind-shattering release can be.

Magnus will enjoy today’s lesson.

“And how will you do that, hmm? We both know you can come untouched, but not without a hard cock up your ass.”

A tremor runs through Alec, his whole body squirming in Magnus' embrace. “What if I beg you to give it to me?” His hand in Magnus' hair, the only thing that seems to keep him upright, tightens, and he licks his lips, meeting Magnus' eyes in the mirror.

Oh, _now_ they’re playing.

“Tempting, but the view here is spectacular. Ah, ah,” Magnus clucks, catching Alec’s hand as he releases his hair. “You can take what I give you, or you can try to fit that gorgeous cock back into your jeans and hand this suit back to Maurice.”

He meets Alec’s eyes in the mirror, can see the exact moment he drops them to take in his cock and the damp spot on the aubergine-colored fabric where he’s been leaking all over himself. The blush staining Alec’s cheeks deepens to a burning crimson Magnus only ever sees right before Alec comes. It’s intoxicating.

“What a sight you are,” Magnus murmurs. Alec doesn’t protest when he pulls his arms behind his back and gathers his wrists into a one-handed grip. “Cock hanging out for everyone to see and not an ounce of shame.” Magnus sucks in a shuddering breath, willing away the memories of how Alec’s utter lack of shame in bed brings him to his knees with barely more than a flutter of his lashes, but it’s too late. He’s already wet at the slit, cock straining where it’s pressed against the swell of Alec’s ass. Admitting defeat, Magnus sighs, his breath ghosting over Alec’s neck. “The things you do to me, darling.”

Before he can elaborate, the door that leads to the dressing room opens and closes. There are five cubicles, but whoever just came in walks by the ones furthest from theirs and closes the curtain of the cubicle next to them. Magnus hears the distinct sound of hangers going onto the hook— _one, two, three, four_ — and the rustle of somebody unbuttoning their jacket.

In the mirror, Alec’s eyes are wide and dark. His cock twitches, rock hard and wet.

Magnus lifts a finger to his lips— _shh_ —before he slips his hand under the tails of Alec’s shirt, palm flat against his belly. Stroking lower he bypasses Alec’s cock, biting his lips against the laugh that threatens to spill out of him at the look Alec is shooting him in the mirror. Lower, lower, until he can cradle Alec’s balls where they’re still tucked below the elastic of his boxers. Magnus lifts them out carefully, rolling them against the heat of his palm and squeezing lightly, turning his head to slide their mouths together in a messy kiss.

He can feel Alec’s heart racing where their bodies touch, feels it in every quick, shallow breath Alec takes in between kisses, the way he strains and opens up for Magnus, angling his head back for more, deeper, wetter, begging with his whole body. A hot crackle of want pulses under Magnus’ skin, obliterating any remainder of restraint he might have left. Magnus wants to push those pants down and put his cock into Alec like he’s asked for, wants him hot and tight, shoving back to have him where he needs him. Wants Alec to take him home and make him pay as he promised. Spread him out on their bed and ride his ass until all Magnus can do is bite the pillow and scream his pleasure into the sheets.

Fuck, Magnus _wants_.

A low, muffled moan rips through the silence. It must be Alec, but Magnus can’t be sure. He’s so hot he can’t think straight, can barely keep his grip on Alec’s wrist when he begins to struggle. Alec rolls his hips, ruthlessly chasing his pleasure, his movements stuttering and subsiding only when Magnus squeezes, fingertips pressing behind Alec’s balls.

Sinking his teeth into Alec’s bottom lip, Magnus tugs lightly. _Shh._

“Everything okay over there?”

Alec jolts and goes entirely still in Magnus’ arms. Long seconds tick by, their eyes meeting in the mirror when Alec inhales. “Yeah,” he rasps, clearing his throat so the hitch in his breath won’t give him away. “These cubicles are so cramped. I keep hitting my elbows against the wall.”

“Oh, okay, just wanted to make sure,” the disembodied floats over to them, slightly muffled, followed by the rustle of wool sliding over cotton.

They’re both shaking with adrenaline. Magnus’ arousal only flares brighter with the prospect of being caught, and considering that he’s not the only one who’s still hard, Alec shares his excitement.

Magnus can feel Alec’s breath hitch when he lets go of wrists, his eyes widening when Magnus shakes his head, telling him no, he’s not allowed to move his hands. Even the slide of silk against Magnus’ palm seems to echo unnaturally loud in the small space, no matter how carefully he undoes the tie around Alec’s neck and slips it from under his collar. All the tension bleeds from Alec as soon as Magnus loops the tie around his wrists, eyes going hazy and his mouth dropping open around a soundless gasp when Magnus tugs at the knot.

All that power and strength, so beautiful when he submits.

With Alec’s final acceptance that he’s not going to get off anytime soon, something settles in Magnus, too. He’s still so aroused he can hear his blood rushing in his ears, but the urgency that threatened to spill over has cooled to a simmer just below his skin and in his balls, just enough that he can blend out the need to rut and fuck and focus on Alec instead. Kissing Alec’s temple Magnus starts with his shirt, slowly slipping the buttons from their holes one by one, settling his hands on Alec’s stomach when he’s done.

To anyone who might look at them, Alec seems utterly still, but Magnus feels the hard muscles under his hands tremble with need and the effort to hold back, be good for Magnus; perhaps even a little unease.

Good, Magnus doesn’t want him guessing.

The hair on Alec’s stomach and chest prickles against his palms as he slides them up and scratches through the soft hair that’s already damp with sweat. God, Magnus’ whole body clenches with want when he takes him in. He loves the hair on Alec’s body, his furred chest and the bush between his legs that he keeps neatly trimmed but full enough that it tickles Magnus’ lips and nose when he sucks his cock.

Alec’s eyes slip shut when Magnus pinches a nipple just the right side of pain, bowing his back and pushing for more. Indulging him, Magnus twists his other nipple too, teasing both nubs until they’re flushed pink. Any other time he wouldn’t stop here, but time isn’t exactly on their side.

Magnus rubs his cheek against Alec’s in silent apology and lets his hands drift lower. He curls his hand around Alec’s cock and holds it, his other hand stroking lower over his tightly drawn sac to the smooth skin below.

Alec shudders and bites his lip when he feels Magnus’ hands on his cock, but his hips merely twitch, only the wetness seeping from the slit and slicking Magnus’ palm giving away how badly he wants this. A slight squeeze, just hard enough that Alec feels the metal of his rings, earns Magnus a stutter of Alec’s hips. Alec is doing so well, trying to be good, but the harsh pressure of three fingers against his perineum is too much and he arches, straining back against Magnus as his hips twist.

Magnus can see Alec swallow, his throat working as he holds back a cry. Eyes closed, his entire focus is between his legs where Magnus works him hard, massaging his prostate from the outside with small, deep circles.

Magnus’ gut clenches with a surge of all-consuming want. He knows what Alec is feeling, that deep aching pleasure that’s almost too much but never enough, rising like a slowly swelling tide—

“Magnus, I found the shirt you wanted. Magnus?”

Maurice’s voice startles them both. Enough for their muscles to lock tight with the sudden rush of guilt, their wide eyes meeting in the mirror, but not enough to unwind the knot of arousal at the base of Magnus’ spine. It takes a lot more than almost getting caught to distract Magnus from the marvel that is Alec lost in passion.

Mouthing a quick “be good” Magnus forces himself to break away from Alec. He misses the feel of his skin under his hands as soon uncurls his hand from around Alec’s cock, doesn’t look in the mirror or he might just say _fuck it_ , audience or not. God, Magnus can _taste_ Alec’s need in the back of his throat like something hot and sweet.

He moves the curtain only far enough that he can step out without compromising Alec. The waiting area is empty, Maurice nowhere to be found. Relief floods Magnus, and he almost laughs at himself. This would be hardly the first time they almost got caught. The operative word being almost. They do love an audience, but Magnus prefers their watchers to be willing and eager.

It’s tempting to finish what they started, but there’s always the possibility that Maurice will come back. Better to get this over with, and if they’re lucky, once he comes back, the gentleman in the cubicle next to them will have finished trying on his selection of clothes.

In the shop, Maurice is busy with a customer. Magnus makes sure to approach him from a different direction than the dressing room, picking up two soft sweaters from the knitwear section on his way.

“Magnus, I didn’t see you back there.” Maurice eyes the luxurious sweaters in Magnus' hands. “Lucky man, your Alec. Here, I found the shirt you were looking at in his size.” He nods at the counter where a shirt with lavender pop dots is sitting on top of the sizable stack with their purchases.

“Thank you. We’ll take it,” Magnus nods. “And we’ll also take the suit and the same one in black.” Magnus has been shopping with Maurice long enough to know that everything will be taken care of without further instructions. He turns to go, relieved when Maurice turns back to his customer.

Back in the dressing room, all cubicles except for one are empty. Magnus breathes out unevenly, thankful for the small mercy. Even if Alec can be quiet, Magnus isn’t so sure about himself. Not when he finds Alec standing the same way he had left him: legs slightly spread, arms behind his back, his cock jutting out and precome beading at the tip. How often has Magnus seen Alec stand precisely like this, patient and unmoving? How is he supposed to look at him ever again without thinking of today?

“Raziel, Magnus…”

“I’ve got you,” Magnus chokes out on a rush of breath. Fitting himself in the small space behind Alec he makes sure the curtain is closed because this time he isn’t going to stop.

He was wrong. Alec isn’t unmoving; he’s _shaking_ , minute shifts of his hips Magnus can feel rather than see. He’s wet, not just the swollen head but the whole length of his cock where he’s been dripping all over himself, sticky drops of pre-come glinting on the floor below.

“Like this,” Magnus murmurs as he wraps his fist around Alec’s cock. He works him slow and tight, long strokes right up to the head. Stripping away the slickness, squeezing around the crown before he lets go and cups Alec’s sac, rolling his balls against his slick palm while he curls his other hand around him and repeats the motion.

“Fuck, _Magnus_ …keep…” Alec shudders and rolls his hips, his voice rough, ragged, drawn out from deep within his chest. He’s so close it’s palpable, like an electric crackle in the air. Magnus can feel it slithering up his spine, has to bite his lips against the lust roiling low and hot in his gut.

Only the thought how hard he’ll come later with Alec inside him keeps him from rutting himself to completion, but his resolve almost goes to hell when Alec pushes back. He shamelessly rides his ass over Magnus’ dick, muscles taut and straining, but with the barrier his bound hands provide all he gets is a whisper of the friction he wants.

“Need to…” Alec whines. Magnus twists and swallows it in a kiss, tongue slipping between Alec’s lips, god, _anything_ to keep Alec from making these noises that entirely lay him to waste. He can’t focus to make both of his hands work, so he presses the heel of his hand behind Alec’s balls and twists his hand around his cock, the edge of his ring catching against the ridge under the crown, and that’s it.

Magnus can feel the exact moment Alec starts to come, the thick vein on the underside of Alec’s cock throbbing against his palm as Alec goes rigid, eyes clenched shut and his thighs trembling with the effort. He groans into the kiss, gushing in wet spurts over Magnus’ fist, comes so hard that the fat drops of come hit the polished surface of the mirror and slide down in a milky trail.

They’re too loud, Magnus knows it. Alec is panting with the exertion of a bone-melting orgasm, and Magnus’ own breath is harsh with the effort to keep himself from coming. Just two seconds and he’ll find the energy to pull up a portal—

Alec’s lips are soft around Magnus’ fingers, his tongue slick and hot as he laps up his come. Holding Magnus’ wrist, he hums as he licks between his fingers, taking great care to clean Magnus' rings too.

A shiver so hard he can feel his teeth knock together tears through Magnus. “There’s more,” he rasps without thinking, his voice a barely-there thing that grates in his throat.

Without hesitation Alec drops to his knees, tongue snaking out and dragging over the polished surface of the mirror, leaving it shining and spit-slick. “Ready to go home and pay up?” he asks, looking at Magnus in the mirror from under his lashes, licking his lips.

Magnus closes his eyes against the wave of heat that pours into his stomach and nods, digging his nails into his palms or he’ll do something foolish like ripping the damn suit from Alec. If it wasn’t ruined before, it is now anyway with Alec kneeling in the mess he made.

They’ll have to buy another one. Hell will freeze over before Magnus gives up on the chance to take out Alec in that suit and make everyone see how lucky he is.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on [Tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [twitter.](https://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


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